


Enigmatic Lover

by Ladibard_Wordsmith28



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Biblical Reinterpretation, Churches & Cathedrals, Emotional Sex, F/M, Prompt Fic, Rebuilding, Reunion Sex, Romantic Soulmates, Secret Relationship, Severus Snape Lives, Telepathy, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25612822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladibard_Wordsmith28/pseuds/Ladibard_Wordsmith28
Summary: ” My lucifer cried at the feet of Son of God, begging for a second chance,” brushing off his long raven black strands, she whispered reverently, giving him willingly the final piece of the puzzle to unlock her heart,” you are my Lucifer, resurrected, redefined, and healed.”- Finally, Snape and Hermione agreed to give their platonic soul bound relationship a new dimension.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Enigmatic Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR. My mind lives in the Harry Potter fanfiction world though my body is still thankfully anchored in the monotonous reality of existence. My themes, plotline, and storyline may, therefore, get indirectly influenced by many of the brilliant fanfiction writers on this site. And I humbly bow to such creative genius who give me much needed literary pleasures to see through the toils of mundane life.  
> Lastly, I would like to thank Weasleys, Witches & Writers admins to tempt me into thinking out of the box. Reviews would encourage this introvert writer to peep out of her literary closet. Though this one does not include a Weasley. But I have put the 'prompt' in good use!

**Enigmatic Lover**

Father Sirius Brown had nothing in common with Late Sirius Black. While the dead man had served prison time, led a flamboyant life, was an established bully who was not untouched by the inherent sadistic tendencies, the muggle priest was polite, pious, and dedicated. Beside him stood the woman who had helped him to rebuild the community church. Thanking her profusely he whispered,” Dear Hermione, you know, your parents would be very proud of you. May their souls rest in peace.”

Hermione Granger watched the workers, cautiously placing the numerous stained glass panels one beside the other. Each one of the depicted Biblical scenes. She had hand-painted them, of course, added several protective wards, just in case. After anonymously donating half the money the Ministry of Magic had gifted to her for her role in bringing down Voldermort, she felt it was the only way she could beg for forgiveness. Magic was responsible for killing her parents. Death eaters had descended on Sunday Mass and had unleashed Fiendfyre on innocent unsuspecting peaceful churchgoers. 

The fact that no one pointed their fingers at her troubled her. So the first thing she had done as soon as she got graduated. was to sever all her ties with the Magical world and live as a recluse. It was a good thing that there were several witnesses who had gaped at her when she had broken her wand. But no one knew, she carried another on her person. A malicious wand once wielded by a mad witch who was long dead. Ever since she had reclaimed her proficiency at glass painting, Hermione had been using that wand, telling herself, ‘it’s time for it to repent as well’.

She turned and politely bade goodbye to the Father, bowed at the altar, and left as quickly her feet could carry her off the grand building. The priest frowned at her retreating back and tsked, telling himself,’ she lost so much at such a tender age.’ He had turned to marvel at the shades depicting the crucifix on the last panel and furrowed his brows noticing a fleet of angels framing the panel. Only of them in the middle of the bottom panel, fluttered his wings and the white feathers turned dark. The priest gasped and rubbed his eyes. He looked again but saw nothing unusual. Shaking his head, he mumbled under his breath,” Must be the dirt.”

He did not notice the tall man in deep midnight blue long coat and a trilby hat leaving the church. No one else saw him apparently. He was so well hidden in the shadows of the long columns.

* * *

Hermione crossed the street, alert and prepared, palming her wand, hiding her wand hand stupendously. It had been raining all day. The smog and the heavy clouds had turned everyone’s mood gloomy and spirits down. But people in the small community were hopeful. In just a handful of months their Church would throw its door open and life would finally turn normal.

She had felt his presence in the church the moment she had stepped inside. She didn’t run her eyes over the small groups of workmen and the flock of visitors. She never did. But she knew, because she knew how his magic felt like, she knew his voice. She knew how it felt like to hear his inner thoughts fleeting around her mind. It had been like that ever since she had turned seventeen. 

In a rare rune text perhaps belonging to Morgana’s mother Vivienne, she had read the lines:

_ ‘When you come of age, you’re able to speak to your soulmate telepathically.’ _

The eleven-year-old lonely girl had wished with all her might for it to come true. She never believed in fortune tellers nor in Divination. But she would allow this little thing to stay untouched in her belief system. Seventeenth. She had come of age on the run, hunting for fragments of a malevolent wizard’ soul who had wished her kind to die off. Wrapped up in a smelly quit, fighting tears she had wished herself, “Happy Birthday”. And in reply, he had spoken in hushed whispers,” Hello...so you exist...but its too late...too late.” 

His baritone voice had shaken her, terrified her, and excited her. His voice often slurred at night, but it seldom slept. Her magic had roared in her vein, growing ever so impatient to find him and touch him and if destiny wanted it, be one with him. It was because of this singular reason, she had pleaded with him in the confines of her mind to create antivenoms. Oh, yes, she knew who he was. And he had fought with her. First, he ignored her for a month, then, he bickered. And in a moment of weakness, he had confessed to her, he indeed wanted to know for once what true undiluted happiness meant.

It was their secret. No one would ever know it was Hermione Granger who had saved Headmaster Severus Snape’s life. She had done it in the muggle way. A crazy mouth to mouth transfer of a potion, she wouldn’t have tasted otherwise. But it was to save him, her secret soulmate. She would travel to the end of the world to save this enigmatic man if time chose to meddle with their lives.

Ducking into an alley, she waited for him to pass. But Snape walked in as casually as he would stroll about in the ancient corridors of Hogwarts Castle. All he had to do was stand near her and ask levelly,” Your place, now.” Even if she was seeing him for the first time after five long years, she had grabbed his sleeves and apparated them.

Severus looked around the overgrowth porch and the dilapidated structure of a mansion that had once seen glorious days and arched his brow. Granger had turned and whispered loud enough, “amans aenigmata”.

Following her into the open space of a massive hall, bare and seamless, he looked around with interest. It was designed like a studio flat. And its openness aided in her present occupation. It was too industrial to belong to a witch. By it smelt of Granger, thus it was indisputably perfect. 

Spinning around, giving her little time to gather her wits, he wrapped his hand around her petite waist and picked her up. Next, her half-hearted yelp had dissolved in his hunger and demanding kiss. He had spent every waking hour dreaming of this moment. Wandering sinfully how she would react to his unguarded desire, will she flinch? Will she shove him off? 

It was late into the night when the two had finally made it to her single cot. It was too small for the both of them, so Severus had cradled her over his bare body, and she had kissed all those scars criss crossing his torso. In between frenzied kisses, Snape couldn’t help but ask,” Why amans aenigmata?” Clenching her muscles around his throbbing hardness, Granger’s trembling reply had justified,” Because it reminded me of you. Until now, you had been my eternal secret, enigmatic lover, amans aenigmata.”

“Hermione?” he choked on her name.

“Hmm?” she moved over him, dousing him again and again, with carnal fire. Meeting her midway each time, he fumbled for the right words,” In the last panel, right at the feet of Christ, who was the angel fluttering his black wings?”

She had halted and stretched across his long frame, till her lips ghosted over his chin. In absolute joy, she declared,” My lucifer cried at the feet of Son of God, begging for a second chance,” brushing off his long raven black strands, she whispered reverently, giving him willingly the final piece of the puzzle to unlock her heart,” you are my Lucifer, resurrected, redefined, and healed.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this week's prompt!  
> When you come of age, you’re able to speak to your soulmate telepathically. Character A has just turned 17, and Character B says hello. Hump Day Drabble- Weasleys, Witches & Writers


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